


Stultus Magicae

by GypsyDream



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cheesy pick-up lines, F/M, Just Something Fun, Plot Bunny, Tumblr Prompt, does that even need a tag, little bit of language, that's why it's rate T
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-22 15:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6085455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsyDream/pseuds/GypsyDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt: "Well, this is most definitely not where I wanted to teleport, sorry for appearing in your bed at two in the morning"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've posted anything so go easy on me, but feedback is definitely appreciated! Hope you enjoy!

Stress has been known to wreak all kinds of havoc on the body. Hermione Granger prided herself in her ability to juggle a million responsibilities and not suffer the consequences. Needless to say, being bedridden in St. Mungo’s was definitely not in her daily planner, and for her illness to be stultus magicae was just plain embarrassing.  
  
Stultus magicae: literal translation “stupid magic”. From all the research she had done, Hermione concluded that basically her overload of stress had caused a slip in her control over her magic allowing for boughts of explosive magic similar to a child’s accidental magic. No one could really blame her for being overstressed. Recently divorced, the new head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and having to deal with all the Post War reconstruction was enough to drive any woman crazy.  
  
Her symptoms hadn’t even been that difficult to handle. In fact, they’d started out somewhat comical. Her hair would change color when she sneezed, random objects around her would levitate, and the air around her smelled like peanut butter when she was frustrated, which was always. Harry thought the whole situation was hilarious, and Hermione agreed up until her spells started doing the opposite of what she intended. Poor Crookshanks was still waterlogged and bitter over the drying charm she’d attempted last week. So, being finally fed up with the whole thing, she checked herself into St. Mungo’s for treatment.  
  
“Miss Granger?” Her nurse – Sarah was it? – poked her head in through the doorway to see if she was awake. Seeing Hermione sitting up and smiling at her, she smiled back and entered the room. “We have a calming drought for you to take, but other than that the only thing we can recommend is a vacation to reduce your stress.” Sarah placed a vial on the side table. “With enough relaxation your magic should be back to normal fairly quickly.”  
  
Hermione downed the blue liquid and cringed at the disgusting taste. “Thanks for your help. I’m sure the potion will be enough.”  
  
Sarah made a face of doubt and opened her mouth to protest, but Hermione was already out the door muttering to herself about being behind schedule. She briskly made her way through the maze-like hallways seemingly on autopilot after spending so much time there. Checking herself out at the front desk, she made her way to the apparition point inside the hospital. The calming drought had already taken effect, surely she wasn’t too stressed to apparate. With a “pop!” St. Mungo’s was gone.  
  
Hermione landed with a soft “oomph” face down on a cushioned surface that was most definitely not her apartment floor. Raising her head, she had time to acknowledge she was in a bed – not her bed – before an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her against something warm and solid. Dread settling in her stomach, Hermione lifted her head again and caught sight of white blond hair and sharp facial features. She let out a muffled shriek causing the person next to her to snap open their eyes. Sealing her fate, the eyes were storm grey and stared at her in confusion.  
  
Hermione began to try to move away stuttering apologies and looking anywhere but Draco Malfoy’s bare chest. “I’m so sorry I didn’t – I was at – but then the stress – and I thought the calming drought would – but I should’ve – Oh Merlin!”  
  
Draco groaned and buried his face further into his pillow, not moving his arm from her waist. “Granger,” Hermione stopped moving. “Stop squirming and shut it already. It’s too early for this, sort out your horrendous sense of direction later.”  
  
Hermione’s body began to relax inch by inch as Draco began a light snoring again. Shifting to be more comfortable, Draco pulled her tighter against him. Hermione sighed, “Shit.”


	2. De-Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione wakes up the next morning after having accidentally apparated into Draco's apartment. And accidentally cuddled with him. And accidentally slept in his bed. It's been a rough weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys rock! Thanks for all the kudos and reviews, they mean a lot! I was planning on keeping it a one-shot but the story wouldn't leave me be, so here's a part two.

Sunlight filtered into the room rousing Hermione from her sleep. She groaned and buried her face into her pillow to avoid the offensive light before her eyes snapped open. Not her pillow. Not her _bedroom_. She sat up quickly, curls flying wildly around her face, and darted panicked eyes around the room. Covering her face with her hands, she groaned again remember the events of last night. Her magic had taken her to Draco Malfoy’s apartment of all places. Lifting her head, this time with a curious gaze, she took stock of the room around her.  
  
The grey-blue walls were not at all the color she was expecting from the retired Prince of Slytherin, and yet it suited him. The dark wood of the furniture and fireplace gave the room a cozy feeling. Rising from the bed, the hardwood floor was cool beneath her stocking-clad feet. Collection her shoes from where she must have kicked them off in her sleep, Hermione’s gaze swept over the many bookshelves next to the fireplace, appreciation for Draco’s collection of books lighting her eyes.  
  
Righting her sleep wrinkled clothes as best she could, Hermione squared her shoulders and opened the bedroom door, ready to face whatever consequences came from her accident. She stepped out of the bedroom into a room divided into a kitchen and living room with the owner of the apartment sitting at the kitchen table. Sipping coffee and reading the Daily Prophet, Draco didn’t move as Hermione came into the room. She approached the table and waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, she opened her mouth, apology on the tip of her tongue.  
  
“Coffee?” She blinked, startled by the abrupt question. When she didn’t answer, Draco lowered the newspaper and lifted one eyebrow at her.  
  
Hermione opened her mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say. He was being so casual and, well, un-Malfoy. Especially since she had crash-landed in his flat not twelve hours ago. It was completely throwing her off.  
  
“Suit yourself,” he resumed reading the newspaper. “Personally, I can’t function in the mornings without it. Sit.” Draco motioned to the chair across from him, and Hermione sat in it almost mechanically still unsure how to handle this nice version of Malfoy. She watched him for a moment as she attempted to gather her thoughts.  
  
Malfoy had definitely changed since they graduated. He’d lost the boyish, greased-back hair and quidditch had done wonders for his physique. Hermione noted the slight tan to his skin and more relaxed air about him. He’d lost the “weight of the world on his shoulders” look and seemed softer somehow. The War had been hard on everyone, though it seemed he came out of it with maturity and a sense of purpose.  
  
“Are you going to continue staring in such a rude manner,” Hermione startled out of her thoughts at the abrupt question, “or are we going to discuss why you were in my bed last night?” He looked up from the Daily Prophet again, and Hermione finally spoke.  
  
“I’m sorry for disturbing you last night. I had been trying to apparate home but must have been too distracted and –“ Before she could finish her white lie, Malfoy set down the newspaper and propped his chin on his folded hands. He stared at her for a few moments before a smirk touched the corner of his mouth.  
  
“I hate peanuts.”  
  
A tick started at the edge of her right eye as Hermione attempted to stay calm and keep a straight face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Malfoy, honestly you –“  
  
Draco leaned back in his seat and let his full smirk show. Oh how she wanted to smack that smirk off his face. “You need to lighten up, Granger. Maybe have a good shag. Merlin knows you need it; you have enough stress in that bushy head of yours to kill a person. And I doubt you ever got that from Weaslebee; it’s probably why you divorced him. How you’re still standing rather than getting completely splinched on my bedroom floor is beyond me. It was rather irresponsible of you to apparate last night, wouldn’t you agree?”  
  
Hermione shoved her chair back from and table and stood to her feet, livid. “How dare you try and tell me what is and isn’t responsible?” She leaned on the table, getting close to his face. “I am perfectly capable of handling stress, Malfoy. I was in a fucking war, remember? I’m pretty sure that was more stressful than my divorce could have ever been! And don’t you dare assume you know anything about my relationships or my life. I think I can handle a little apparition and stress, thank you very much.”  
  
She paused mid-rant as Malfoy set something on the table, leaning back in his chair with a neutral expression. She looked down and saw a calming drought; her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Standing upright she slowly made eye contact with Malfoy. When he didn’t smirk or say anything rude, she slowly picked up the bottle. “How did you know?”  
  
A small smile formed on Malfoy’s face, “I smelled like peanuts, too.”  
  
Hermione’s eyes widened. “You’ve had this stupid sickness before?”  
  
“Isn’t that what I just said?” Draco rose and took his coffee mug to the sink while Hermione tucked the calming drought into her pocket.  
  
She tentatively followed him into the kitchen, unsure if he was going to make fun of her or not. She wouldn’t put it past him with the countless jokes that could be made. “What, um, what do you recommend to get it to go away faster?”  
  
Draco turned around to face her and seemed to search her face for a second. Before she could question what exactly he was looking for, “I suggest you take a vacation. Read a book, visit the ocean, sleep, do whatever makes you relaxed.”  
  
Normally, Hermione would scoff at anyone who suggested she of all people should take a vacation, but with her magic was taking such a toll on her, and the thought of just relaxing for a few days sounded wonderful. “Thank you for, um, everything I guess. I know it must’ve been weird to wake up to you school enemy practically falling out of the sky on top of you.”  
  
Draco smirked again but there was no malice in it this time. “Not really, no.” Before Hermione could question what the hell he meant by that, Draco took a step towards her effectively closing the space between them. “And on your vacation I recommend you work out all the stress and tension in your body. Get yourself really relaxed.” Hermione shivered as his baritone voice seemed to purr the last sentence out.  
  
“Malfoy, what –“  
  
She didn’t get to finish her question before Draco leaned forward and kissed her. Hermione froze as her mind went into “what the hell” overdrive. Draco gently placed a hand on her cheek and waited, lips firmly pressed to hers.  
  
He shouldn’t be kissing her right now, he’s Malfoy for Merlin’s sake! When had they’re hatred become anything close to him wanting to kiss her? She set her hands on his chest with every intention of pushing him away, but she paused. _You know what? Who cares? I’m a grown ass woman, I can kiss whoever I want._ Hermione sighed and leaned into him, hands winding into his hair – of course it feelings like fucking silk – and kissed him back. His arms wound around her waist and pulled her close as her mind finally grew quiet. _Fuck it._  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this one should be the final installment. No promises though since this was supposed to be a oneshot. Anyway, here's a little something from Draco's point of view.

This was hands down the best day Draco Malfoy had ever experienced. And the fact that it wasn’t a dream made it even better. When he’d woken up that morning with his arms full of beautiful curves and a face full of Hermione’s sweet smelling mane of hair, he’d thought he’d finally gone and kicked the bucket. Surely he was in heaven. He’d wrapped his arms around her tighter and sighed in bliss, but his Slytherin mind was only inactive for a moment. Sure, this was an amazing morning, but she’d eventually wake up and who knew what kind of tantrum she’d throw. But if he played his cards right…  
  
Draco grinned before slowly easing himself out of bed, careful not to wake the sleeping lion next to him. Quietly making his way to the kitchen he mentally planned several ways the next hour could go. He was honestly shocked when she didn’t come barreling into the kitchen with her wand blazing, but instead crept in like she was treading on eggshells. It was even more surprising when she sat down at the table with him and attempted to apologize for her abrupt arrival in his room the night before. It had only taken him a few moments that morning to realize her medical situation and decide to use it and her embarrassment to his advantage.  
  
No, he’d never had Stultus Magicae, but with a few well-placed words Hermione would be none the wiser. Honestly, the kiss itself had been a gamble. Even without her magic, Hermione had a mean right hook that Draco still feared. But the feeling of her finally – _finally_ – kissing him back was well worth it. He wove his hands into the amazing curls that were as soft as he’d imagined and pressed himself closer to Hermione, backing them up until she was pressed between him and the kitchen counter. Her hands ran over his chest and arms before moving to undo his shirt buttons. When she couldn’t get them undone, Hermione huffed into their kiss and reached for her wand in her back pocket.  
  
Draco’s eyes flew open when Hermione jerked away from the kiss. Worried that he’d pushed too far too quickly, Draco attempted to step back but was stopped when every article of clothing he owned came flying out of his bedroom towards the couple. He let out an undignified shout as in a matter of seconds Hermione and Draco were in a bundle on the floor encased in every article of clothing he owned. He heard a groan from the small girl on top of him and, worried she’d been hurt in the Madam Malkin’s bombing that just went down, he tilted his head up to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed a deep red that ran down her neck and over her chest. Shaking his head before he went down that trail of thought he raised one eyebrow at her.  
  
“I was just…” Hermione buried her face in his chest muffling the rest of her sentence.  
  
“I’m sorry, what was that?” He leaned his face closer to the top of her head barely able to make out what she said.  
  
“I was just trying to get your stupid buttons open.”  
  
As he quickly put together what had happened he began to laugh, surprising her. She jerked her head up, wide eyed and still flushed to see his head thrown back in mirth. “You mean to tell me,” he tried to get out through his chuckles, “that you tried to use your magic to undress me and in the process mummified us with my entire wardrobe?”  
  
Hermione smacked his chest in her embarrassment and attempted to move off of him. Wiggling she huffed out, “Well it’s not my fault. You practically threw yourself at me! Besides who even owns this amount of clothing? It’s ridiculous!”  
  
Still smiling, Draco maneuvered his hands to her hips to hold her still. “You have worse control over your magic than a little first year Hufflepuff.”  
  
Hermione’s mouth dropped open and anger sparked in her eyes causing Draco’s grin to grow. He loved getting her riled up and watching her eyes glow with emotion. “First of all, that’s so mean to Hufflepuffs! They’re the sweetest kids you’ll ever meet! And second, it’s not that I don’t have any control, it’s because of this stupid illness you arse!”  
  
In a spur of the moment decision, which only Hermione could bring out of him, he kissed the tip of her nose. Hermione froze in the middle of her rant and looked at him with wide eyes. “You’re so cute when you’re angry.”  
  
Hermione flushed again and looked down at his chest in embarrassment. “Yes, well, being cute isn’t going to get us out of this situation.”  
  
“No, but it certainly got us into it.”  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes at him and attempted to push herself up bracing her hands on his chest. When she didn’t budge she shoved a few more times with little success. Draco shifted to try and give her more space and in doing so felt his wand in his back pocket. He smirked at her, “If you reach into my back pocket you can grab my wand, and I can get us out of this.” Hermione reached her hand underneath him groping for his wand. “Honestly, Hermione, using this situation to get a grab at my arse is hardly the Gryffindor thing to do.”  
  
Instead of blushing again as he expected, Hermione rolled her eyes and managed to get ahold of his wand. “Is that your wand, Draco, or are you happy to see me?”  
  
Draco’s eyes widened slightly as he met her challenging gaze. He smirked. _So she wants to play? Game on._ Draco squeezed her hips and grazed his thumb along the waistband of her pants and smiled when he heard her breath hitch slightly. “If we were wearing less clothes,” he drawled, “you’d be able to see for yourself.”  
  
Hermione smirked at him in a way that matched his trademark look before leaning close to his ear. He shivered slightly feeling her breath brush his ear and heard her whisper, “With my magic misbehaving maybe we should take off these clothes in a safer way.”  
  
_Merlin, why did it take me so long to make a move on her?_ Draco pulled her closer to him and purred, “You’re move, Peanut.”  
  
The laugh that erupted from her was the most beautiful sound to ever reach his ears. “I never thought I’d say it, Draco, but I’m so glad I ended up in your flat last night.”  
  
Draco kissed her soundly before smiling at her and saying, “Despite the wardrobe casualties, I’m glad you did too.”


End file.
